


Dear Darling

by Aiwyn



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-01-26 08:10:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1681109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aiwyn/pseuds/Aiwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is writing just another letter to Bucky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's kind of disturbing when you get Stucky feels from every song... This time it was Olly Murs' song Dear Darling. Thank you to PeetaPan for the beta, you're lovely. This will be the last Stucky fic for a moment because I'm working on something else, but you must not worry - I will come back to this pairing. I cannot abandon my OTP, can I?

DEAR DARLING

 

_Dear Bucky_

 

He tried. He really tried. He just couldn't. Not anymore. Back in the days before Captain America, he would write for hours, write until his hand hurt. He would then scribble his name at the end of the letter. Sometimes, he would even draw a small heart there, but then he would destroy the heart. Bucky was just his friend.

 

_I hope everything is fine there._

 

He leaned back in his chair, putting the pen down. Tears threatened to roll down to his cheeks. His hand was shaking; the words he'd written were hard to read. He ran his hand through his hair. Then he picked up the pen again, took a couple of deep breaths, and continued.

 

_I'm glad to hear you haven't been ill._

 

It hurt more than he could have ever imagined. It hurt to remember everything: every smile, every whisper. It hurt to not have Bucky there. He had hoped Bucky would've been there to wrap his arms around him, to keep him warm, to keep him safe. He missed that. It hurt like hell to remember the way it used to be.

 

_I saw that stray kitten again; I think you'd like her._

 

The ink spread, staining the paper and the other words as his tears fell. He couldn't stop them. He had been holding them for God knows how many years. All the pain, sorrow and guilt. His fault - he didn't make it in time. It was all his fault, and he knew it.

 

_I am sorry, please come back, I miss you._

 

He cried. Finally, he said the truth, admitting what he had kept hidden all his life.

 

_I miss you. I can't live without you. Please, I'm begging you. Come back..._

 

But he knew that those were empty words. It didn't matter what he said; Bucky was long gone. Even if he'd survived the fall, the winter would've killed him.

 

_Dear darling,_

 

He wished he could go back to Brooklyn, back to the old times, back to Bucky.

 

_I love you._

 

But it was 2013, their Brooklyn was turned to ashes, the old times were gone and Bucky – his Bucky - was too far away.

 


	2. I'm cold an alone tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's alone at home - again - and he makes a discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I wrote it. Chapter title stolen from the song Dear Darling by Olly Murs. And again - thanks to my friend for the grammar checking! You're a lovely person.

*~*~*

Bucky was sleeping alone again. Steve was out on a mission with Sam, Natasha and that blonde woman from across the hall. There was two major reasons why Bucky hadn't gone with Steve. The first was Bucky did not like the blonde woman and the second was Steve did not want Bucky to be in any danger. Bucky was quite okay with that – he didn't trust himself enough to hold a gun. But he hated sleeping alone.

 

He rolled over onto his other side, using his metal arm as a pillow. It wasn't all that comfortable, but it didn't matter since he couldn't sleep anyway. He was cold. Steve wasn't there to hold him close. Steve was never there. Bucky had started to dislike some of Steve's missions – mainly those that took place during the night. At first it had been okay, because it had given him some time of his own. But this was the fourth night in a row, and before that Steve had been home only for two nights before being away again.

 

Bucky got up, tossing the blanket to the side. He ran his hand through his hair and stood up. He shivered. The room was rather cold ,and he was wearing only a t-shirt (Steve's) and boxers. He always wore Steve's shirts when Steve wasn't around. He liked the way Steve's clothes smelled just like Steve. Even when Bucky was all alone, he had a piece of Steve with him. Before he had the chance to change his mind and go back to bed, he opened the bedroom door.

 

Bucky walked into the kitchen, pured a glass of wine and went to sit on the windowsill. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, lifting the glass to his lips. The deep red liquid let the light flow through. Bucky opened his eyes after swallowing. He saw a letter sitting on top of the bookshelf. He frowned and stood up, taking the glass with him.

 

He put the glass on the table and stood up from the bench to reach the letter. He took it and sat down, opening the envelope. He knew it was written by Steve. Steve's handwriting was so familiar to him. He smiled a little as he remembered all those letters Steve had sent him during the war – before the Captain America thing.

 

He shook his head and took a sip of wine as he began to read.

 

_Dear Bucky,_ it said. Bucky couldn't help but smile. Steve always started the letter with those words. He continued to read the letter. It was normal, just the stuff Steve usually wrote. Bucky remembered the kitten. Steve had said it was small, furry and orange. It must have been a cute thing.

 

Bucky took a sip of his wine and got back to the letter. Steve's hand had been trembling because the letters were kind of hard to read. Then he saw the stained words. He had seen letters like that. He knew what made the ink spread around like that. Only small drops of water made it look like that. Water or tears.

 

He heard the lock click. He didn't stop reading, because it would be Steve and Steve had written this to him, so it couldn't hurt to finish the letter.

 

When the door opened, Steve stepped inside. He heard glass shattering and practically ran into the living room. Bucky stood there, a letter in his hand, hair all messy – shattered glass and wine staining the floor.

 

”Bucky? What happened? Are you okay?” Steve asked, looking around searching for an enemy that he knew wasn't there.

”You wrote this to me after they melted you, didn't you?” Bucky asked, his voice hoarse and tears glimmering in his eyes. Steve looked at the letter and went completely pale. He didn't know how Bucky would react. They shared a bed, but that was only because Bucky didn't like sleeping alone. There was nothing more between them. Just friendship.

”Yeah, I--”, Steve began, but before he could even think of what to say, Bucky had flung his arms around him and was holding him. Bucky buried his face in Steve's chest. After a moment of hesitation, Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky and hugged him back.

”You said you loved me”, Bucky mumbled.

”No. I didn't say 'loved,' I said 'love.' And I still do”, Steve whispered. Bucky laughed a little and then pushed Steve away for a moment before pressing his lips against Steve's.

”As do I”, Bucky said quietly, smiling against Steve's lips.

 


End file.
